Prosperity
by Workaholic Praxian
Summary: Wheeljack and Ratchet have been bondmates for a long time, though Wheeljack should really come up with a new way to express his admiration of Ratchet.


**Disclaimer: Don't own Transformers**

Prosperity

* * *

It wasn't abnormal for Wheeljack to talk while being repaired after an explosion that only inflicted minor injuries. Some were under the impression that the only reason why Wheeljack could get away with all the slag he pulled on a cycle-to-cycle basis was simply because the CMO was his bondmate. It made matters a bit odd, seeing how Wheeljack was affectionately called 'the walking time bomb' while Ratchet was 'the Hatchet.'

Spending too much time around Wheeljack when he's tinkering with projects was a good way to end up in the medbay. Yet, many were tempted to spend time with him, even when the inventor was working with explosive chemicals because the 'bot was nice, caring and relaxing to talk to.

Ratchet was the one who repaired the Autobots, regardless of his short temper and good aim with a wrench. Regardless of the fact that many left the medbay with wrench-shaped dents, Ratchet was good at his job and cared about his patients, even if his bedside manner was greatly lacking and could improve greatly.

Yet most knew these facts of life about the two and those who didn't would learn quickly. Regardless of their differences, the two got along well, even if it wasn't always apparent to spectators. The two loved each other just as many bonded pairs did.

Helm fins flashed in delight, servos fidgeting from the sudden burst of inspiration for yet another project. "Hey Ratchet, how about an invention that can change weather? Wouldn't that be useful?"

"Don't upset the weather patterns of this area." Ratchet muttered, focusing on reattaching Wheeljack's ped. "Hound would get upset."

"How about if I were to make something that would collect the energy from lightning and convert it into a form that we can use?" Wheeljack suggested.

"You tried that last decacycle. The device was overwhelmed by the amount of energy and you _just had to_ be messing around with the settings at the time." Ratchet reminded his patient, "You fried circuitry in your arms as a result."

"Oh yeah." Wheeljack's helm fins flashed at the reminder. "Well how about-"

"That's why you're here." Ratchet interrupted. He reactivated the sensors in the area before cleaning up the mess he had made. "You're free to go."

"Thanks Ratchet." Wheeljack hugged his bondmate, making sure the medic hugged back before allowing Ratchet to get back to his task.

"It's what I do." Ratchet replied fondly. "Besides, you're worth the effort. Just please don't get dragged back here before the cycle is out. I have paperwork I need to get to."

Wheeljack was about to leave when a thought crossed his processor, one that might get him in a lot of trouble. He decided to say it anyway, regardless of the consequences, because Wheeljack wanted the medic to know how much he appreciated and was happy that Ratchet was his bondmate. "Ratchet?"

Ratchet looked up at Wheeljack, giving the engineer his full attention. "Yes, Wheeljack?"

Wheeljack grinned, a loving look plastered onto his faceplate. "Ratchet, you truly are the best in everything you do; the best medic, the best aim and the best at sparkling carrying. I couldn't ask for a better bondmate."

Ratchet's good mood drained away, optic twitching just the slightest. He was glad to know that Wheeljack thought so highly of him, but 'the best at sparkling carrying?' Deceptively calm, Ratchet spoke up, servo grabbing a nearby wrench. "Wheeljack… Run."

Wheeljack's optics widened, having known it was going to come to this. He ran for his life, nearing the doors to safety when a resounding clank reverberated throughout the medbay. Wheeljack swayed once, twice and fell to the ground.

Ratchet was somewhat satisfied by the fact that Wheeljack not only took his warning seriously, but also tried to escape this time. Last time it had come to this, Wheeljack had tried to calm Ratchet down with soothing words to no avail.

Dinobots, Aerialbots and Protectobots.

Fifteen sparks, five to each group.

Ratchet knelt down to where Wheeljack lay, subspaced the wrench and picked up his mate, carrying Wheeljack to a berth that way he'd be more comfortable when he came back online.

Ratchet made sure Wheeljack was in a relaxed position before kissing Wheeljack on the helm. He went back to sorting his tools, intent on cleaning everything up, though one thought lingered in his processor and wouldn't go away, like an insistent itch in a hard to reach location.

Why was Ratchet the one who carried most of their sparklings?


End file.
